Drowning Butterflies
by dolly shoes
Summary: Chuck struggles with his feelings for Blair while attempting to maintain his newly-repaired relationship with Nate.


Disclaimor: If I owned Gossip Girl all you'd see all show is Chuck Bass, but unfortunately for me I own nothing.

Chuck hadn't spoken to Blair since that night at the bar.

He considered apologizing, but it was too late. He'd said too much, been too cruel. She wouldn't take him back now.

He convinced himself he didn't miss her. He drowned the butterflies in scotch - and they were better behaved these days anyway. He barely saw her now, apart from a glimpse of her back at a party, across the school as re-instated Queen of UES (it didn't take her long to clamber her way back to the top, destroying anyone in her path to the high throne) or a photo on gossip girl so there was nothing for the butterflies to get excited about. They slept in the gloom, biding their time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike: and then they'd soar and swoop and cause him pleasant nausea, sleepless nights and a fever at the slightest touch of her skin.

His behavior became even more reckless. He refused to move in with his new family, the Van Der Basses as they were so fondly nicknamed. He isolated himself from anyone who cared - though there weren't many left after Blair and Nate severed their ties with him. He wallowed in loneliness and self-pity and felt an odd sort of satisfaction from his punishment. It was the satisfaction he hoped he'd gain from destroying Blair but never came. He slept with more faceless women, attended more parties and got smashed, became crueler and colder, made more scandals on gossip girl in a week than anyone else managed in a year.

He cringed at the thought of Blair hearing these stories that he couldn't rightly deny when the evidence was disturbingly incriminating; a pounding hangover, a video link or a photo on gossip girl's blog.

Still he couldn't stop now.

The dull sense of aching he felt from the hole in his heart that Nate and Blair had left could be soothed for a night by a slutty blonde and a bottle of scotch and when the effects wore off he'd start the cycle all over again.

He wasn't heart broken, because Chuck Bass does not do heart broken.

He didn't miss the butterflies; because he didn't like that burning sensation of elation that he felt when Blair was near.

He didn't have to miss it for long. Not that he missed it.

Chuck sees Blair outside the Dean of St. Judes' office - what she was doing there he'll never know, probably something to do with social committee or year book committee or whatever other committee she practically runs single-handedly - and his weeks of hard work of forgetting her, denying his feelings and drowning butterflies was undone in a matter of seconds.

They rose in a flock and danced in excited glee at the sight of her.

He was sat outside the Dean's office on those uncomfortable wooden chairs that creak whenever you move a muscle with a black eye and a bleeding lip. Ironically he's sat next to a sulky Nate whose holding a tissue to his bloody nose.

Hey, he didn't start this. Well perhaps that inappropriate comment that he knew would get Nate going wasn't so innocent but Nate was the one to throw the first punch. Chuck had no intention of retaliating - this was his (ex) best friend after all, until the second well placed punch caught him under the eye and caused him to see inky black spots. (Not stars, he only saw stars when he was inside Blair.) He had a dinner with Bart's business partners that night and showing up with an fresh, ugly bruise did not exactly send out the right impression and Chuck found himself burning with fury. The other boys were running over to restrain Nate and before they'd reached the pair, Nate was on the floor clutching a broken nose.

That's right, Chuck had broken someone's nose.

Even he was surprised.

Chuck had never really been in a fight before, not a proper one anyway. Sure he'd shoved and faced off a few boys during a soccer game (Chuck was usually round the back off the gym smoking a joint while the others took part in St Jude's sports classes but a few times he'd joined in for Nate's sake) but he wasn't usually one to go for brute force. He was usually behind the curtains pulling the strings. That didn't mean he hadn't received a fair few injuries - cabbage patch had seen to that, and he's been slapped many a time by (easily) offended women. So Chuck wasn't the only one surprised as he tried to shake the pain from his aching hand, the knuckles split. He watched Nate watch his own blood spill out onto the tarmac.

The blood stained until lunchtime when a janitor was sent to clean it up.

Chuck heard the distinct sound of mutters and camera phones clicking around him as St Jude's boys that Chuck referred loosely to as his friends pulled him away and others helped Nate up.

So as the two sat in the haughty corridor outside the Dean's office, blood still pouring out of Nate's nose and Chuck smirking to himself about how he'd ruined the pretty boy's good looks for a week or so and the door had creaked open, that falsely sweet voice (that one reserved only for teachers and her mother's business partners and anyone she thought she could fool into thinking that Blair Waldorf was an innocent little angel who made the world a better place by just being there) had rung out and the Queen herself had stepped out clutching her books tightly to her chest like the model student she was and talking over her shoulder, the void between the best friends seemed to grow and Chuck felt he was looking out over a canyon he would never be able to cross. She looked round and seemed to freeze, her plastered smile sliding from her face. Her look of shock deepened as her gaze flickered over the both of them, taking in the bloodied collars and bruised faces - obviously she hadn't checked gossip girl yet.

Her look of barely disguised curiosity and worry was quickly glossed over by one of disgust. Chuck tore his gaze away from her to see Nate's expression, but Archibald was simply staring stonily at the wall ahead of him, crimson-stained tissue still clutched to his nose.

'Well you get back to me on that Miss Waldorf,' the Dean was saying and Blair turned to him promptly with those doe eyes.

'Right, of course. Have a good day, sir.' Sickly sweet. Chuck rolled his eyes.

Blair turned on her heel and went flouncing off down the corridor without another glance.

The lecture Archibald and Bass received in the Dean's office had bored Chuck to the extent he was ready to put a gun in his mouth and end his life right there. It was a lot of '...this behavior is unacceptable' and '...I am disgusted than students of such integrity would degrade themselves to such violent activities...'

_Yeah_, thinks Chuck, _like it's recreational_.

'Now boys, I want you two to have a very long and hard think about what had gotten your unshakeable friendship to such a low point.'

One name comes to mind and Chuck knows from the tension that radiates between the two teenagers that it had just appeared in front of Nate's vision as well.

_Blair._

'This needs to be resolved. You two used to be inseparable, and now you're down to fisticuffs on school grounds?'

Chuck coughs to cover a choked laughed. _Fisticuffs_? He mocks in his mind and he can see from the secret grin spreading across Nate's face that he knows exactly what Chuck is thinking. He's thinking the same thing. Chuck realizes with a pang how much he's missed Nate, how lonely he feels at school even surrounded by the other boys because none of them share the same humor or know the inside jokes. None of them are Nate.

When they are finally let out, lunch has just begun and students are piling out.

Nate leans on the wall with a sigh and eyes Chuck.

They talk for a while. Talk about Blair, talk about them.

Chuck doesn't apologize and neither does Nate. No explanation or excuses flitter between them.

Nate sighs. 'It takes too much effort to dwell in the past. I don't wanna be angry at you anymore.'

'So… we good? No more fisticuffs?'

They walk out together and all eyes are on them, all phones at the ready. Chuck looks around and sees Blair with Serena on her arm, she's staring at them... no, not them, at him. Him. Her eyes fixed intently on his face and he can feel the smirk forming before he can push it away. She breaks the heated connection by turning away and muttering to Serena Chuck quickly averts his eyes because he doesn't want Nate to catch his longing stare. If Chuck's not careful, the fragile friendship they've pieced back together could shake and shatter.

When people start to realize that world war three is not going to unfold on the steps they begin to lose interest, they go back to chatting and lunching.

'So are you guys friends now?' One of the boys at the benches they usually sit at ask at their approach.

'I think I managed to knock some sense into him. A broken nose can do wonders for a person.' Chuck grins at Nate who scoffs.

'Hey, I got in two good punches before you went for my nose. Going for the nose is cheating and everyone knows that!'

'Rules are made to be broken. Not that we set any out before your fist flew at my face though, right? How about a smoke in the park? For old times sake?'

Nate inclined.

And that's all it took.

Nate forgave Chuck and they returned to being the best friends they'd been before the whole Nate/Blair/Chuck fiasco. It was still a delicate friendship, the glue in the cracks still drying and there were some sore spots that they danced around but at least they were functioning again and Chuck felt a whole lot happier and he thought Nate seemed to be as well.

But Nate's happiness, Chuck observed, did not simply come from their repaired friendship.

'Jenny Humphrey? Well... I'm glad to see you're back on the horse.' Chuck spoke uncertainly from behind the Van Der Bass bar.

Nate smiled. 'What about you? Thinking of asking out Blair anytime soon?'

Chuck choked on his sip of scotch; he coughed and spat out the liquid in the most ungentlemanly manor. 'What?' He spluttered, wide eyed.

'Don't look so guilty!' Nate reached over and patted Chuck on the back who was still coughing. 'I know you like her.'

'Nathaniel...'

'It's okay. Blair and me were over a long time ago and I've moved on now... And yeah it sucks that it's you two and it will sting but I see the two of you and your miserable and it's so obvious if you just you know...' Nate stumbled over his words. 'Blair was happier than I've ever seen her when you two were... you know,' Nate skipped over that part while Chuck winced, 'and Blair deserves to be happy. And so do you.'

Chuck stared at his friend in awe. Nate had forgiven him for sleeping with his ex, and now he was sacrificing her for Chuck. And what had Chuck done? How did he possibly find such a friend who actually believed Chuck deserved to be happy? Inside his stomach the butterflies were practically weeping with joy at the thought that Nate had given his blessing for Chuck and Blair. Chuck felt a surge of emotion for his oldest friend and had to look away.

Chuck Bass does not do emotional. He does not do sentimental. He does not do feelings.

Nate watched him and laughed into his drink. 'It's okay. You don't have to say anything.'

'Are you... sure?'

'No, I just said all that to get your hopes up only to bring them crashing down again.'

'Wow, Jenny must be putting out cause you are in one hell of a good mood.'

Chuck thought he'd been lucky when Nate forgave him, now he thought he must have a God on his side if Nate was seriously allowing Chuck to pursue Blair: after all, the only reason he'd stayed away since the night at the bar was because of Nathaniel.

But what, in long twelve years, had Chuck ever done for Nate?

Sure he'd put up with the whiny girlfriend, the long rants about Serena, housed Nate every time he came running from home but was that really enough? If Nate was willing to sacrifice all this, how did Chuck compare?

'No.'

'No?'

'You say it won't hurt now, but you don't know that Nate. Jealousy's a bitch. You don't really want to see me and Blair together.'

There. He's done it. Swallowed the rising bile long in his throat long enough to speak the words that tasted like ash in his mouth. And though it hurt him deeply, cut him straight to the bone he knew he had to make this sacrifice.

'...Thanks man.'

The butterflies aren't weeping for joy much longer.

They are mourning.

But hey, maybe in a few years Nate and Blair will finally be over each other. Maybe he'll get his chance.

Patience isn't a thing Chuck is used to, but neither is sacrifice.

He'd just have to keep drowning butterflies.

He'll be all right.

He's Chuck Bass.

A/N: Okay so there it is, I really hope you enjoyed. I wrote like three alternate ending to this, my Chuck/Blair heart wanted to write one where Chuck simply accepts Nate's offer to allow Chuck and Blair to be together and another one where Chuck actually makes amends with Blair but I wanted to keep the tone of the fic. Please review!

You know you love me, xoxo.


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